I thought he had schizopherenia No -- one relative in Korea said he had an autism dx ... and maybe schizotypal PD, dx later?Turtle -- I liked that distinction between a loner and a failed joiner. That was a very good point.
It's my understanding, that every student is entitled to a "free and appropriate public education" under federal law. An appropriate education is defined within the law to be one that prepares the student for successfull transition into adulthood, employment, and higher education. Since successful transition into the workforce, or college, requires an ability to engage others effectively in the social/emotional realm, then it follows that social/emotional development is a vital part of the K-12 education process. These areas of development are just as important as academics, if not more important. Our government agrees with me on this one. That is why there are legal requirements for social skills development with regard to students who have various diagnostic labels which qualify them to receive these services. It's the responsibility of the family, and the school district (and I mean everyone who sets foot in a school building, even students), to make sure that a questionable student is kept on track and receiving an approprate education.
Cost, time, and academics need to be less of a consideration. For what cost can we assign to the tragic loss of many wonderful lives in that very unfortunate event that occurred at Virginia Tech. Failure on the part of society to effectively address the weaknesses in the educational process WILL result in similar events in the future--it's just a matter of when and where.
There is absolutely no evidence that Cho ever received an autism diagnosis. In fact, the earliest indication that 'japyejeung' (inward-turning syndrome) was thrown around in the Cho family was December 2006, when his great aunt got a telephone call from Cho's mother.Of seven students taking music theory at Westfield High School in Chantilly, Va., in 2001-02, six were "pretty cozy and friendly with one another," recalls one of them, Greg Moore. The seventh, Cho Seung-hui, "was sort of there in the corner, just getting by," Mr. Moore says. "In that entire year, I don't think I ever heard him say as much as a single word."
The first time Mr. Moore says he heard Mr. Cho speak was on TV in April -- on a videotape the Korean immigrant mailed the same day he murdered 32 students and faculty members before killing himself at Virginia Tech.
Mr. Cho didn't need to talk to succeed academically at Westfield. Diagnosed with "selective mutism," or anxiety-related refusal to speak, he was placed in special education under the "emotional disturbance" classification. As a result, he was largely excused from making oral presentations and answering teachers' questions in class; oral participation was de-emphasized in his grading. Aided by such "accommodations," or efforts to compensate for his disability, he achieved A's and B's in regular and Advanced Placement courses and was admitted to Virginia Tech.
| Cho Seung-hui as a 'selectively mute' high schooler (left) and the day he killed 32 at Virginia Tech |
Details of Mr. Cho's experience in special education, which are only now coming to light, suggest that high schools may be paying too much attention to the academic advancement of bright but troubled students and not enough to their emotional disorders. "The focus is, 'What do we need to do to help him get through school?' " says Dewey Cornell, a clinical psychologist and professor of education at the University of Virginia.
When the students move on to college, schools are rarely warned, students get help with special needs only if they seek it, and psychological problems can flare up, sometimes with devastating consequences. At Virginia Tech, because federal law shields students' mental-health histories, administrators and teachers didn't know about Mr. Cho's earlier troubles. Eventually, his strange behavior set off alarm bells and he was ordered to seek counseling by a judge, but there's no indication he complied.
Most colleges ask applicants if they have been disciplined in high school or convicted of a crime, but they don't inquire about disabilities or accommodations. The lack of information about applicants' emotional health "is a glaring problem" brought to light by the April 16 massacre, says Pomona College Admissions Dean Bruce Poch.
It's impossible to know whether a different approach by officials in Fairfax County, Va., where Mr. Cho attended elementary and secondary schools, would have changed his path. He wasn't considered a behavior problem in high school and showed few if any signs of violence. A panel appointed by Virginia Gov. Tim Kaine to investigate the massacre is examining Mr. Cho's years at Westfield, including his special-education program and transition to college. It is expected to issue its report this week.
In an earlier era, students with emotional disorders often dropped out of school or were educated in separate facilities. Today, they typically take mainstream classes -- with accommodations as needed -- and many go on to college.
Often, students with emotional disorders don't qualify for special education. Under federal regulations, they require special education only if their disabilities "adversely affect educational performance." But whether that adverse impact is limited to test scores and grades or also includes anxiety and lack of friends is disputed.
In 2004, a Maine school district denied special education to a girl with Asperger's Syndrome -- a form of autism -- who had attempted suicide. After her parents objected, an administrative hearing officer upheld the district's position that her condition didn't hamper her academic performance. This past March, concluding that education is more than academics, the U.S. First Circuit Court of Appeals ruled her eligible for special education.
Michael Viega, who taught the music theory course at Westfield but no longer works for the district, thinks Fairfax County failed to address Mr. Cho's social and emotional issues. Mr. Cho's individualized education plan -- a federally mandated document for special-education students -- "had nothing about any kind of inner work for him, any self-expression," says Mr. Viega, who is certified in music therapy, which is sometimes used to draw out nonexpressive students. "He fell through the cracks. He made the grades, he passed" state achievement tests, "but his soul was as empty as could be."
Fairfax County officials declined to comment on Mr. Cho. The district has also declined numerous requests for Mr. Cho's educational records, citing privacy restrictions. Some Westfield teachers say the district also advised them not to speak to the media about the case. Dede Bailer, director of psychology and preventive services in Fairfax County, says the district "addresses deficits in social/emotional development, either through special education or preventively outside special education," through social skills groups run by counselors, psychologists and social workers.
Although most students with selective mutism aren't placed in special education, she says, Fairfax has a "very high success rate" with them. In 2005, she says, two school psychologists started a research project in the district to study the condition. Immigrants like Mr. Cho are particularly prone to selective mutism because they are often self-conscious about their ability to speak a second language.
Amy Copeland, a Fairfax County mother whose son was too anxious to be able to speak to adults when he entered kindergarten in 2005, says he wouldn't have conquered mutism without his dedicated teachers at Cherry Run Elementary in Burke, Va. He communicated with them in stages, first using a teddy-bear tape recorder, then leaving phone messages for them at night and relaying responses in class discussion via a fellow pupil.
Mr. Cho's mutism was more severe -- and persistent. Family members couldn't be reached for comment, but people familiar with his background say that, from an early age, he rarely spoke at home or school.
Mr. Cho entered Westfield High as a sophomore when it opened in 2000. His lack of speech soon had repercussions. His English teacher asked students to read aloud, says classmate Chris Davids. When Mr. Cho's turn came, he was silent until the teacher threatened to give him an "F" for class participation. "He was really mumbly," Mr. Davids adds. "Kids started picking on him, chuckling and snickering."
A teacher referred Mr. Cho for a special-education evaluation in fall 2000. The education plan developed for him set goals such as learning to interact verbally with adults and peers, share knowledge in group projects, respond to greetings and farewells, and answer factual questions in at least five words, according to Hollis Stambaugh, deputy project director for the Kaine panel.
To attain these goals, the school encouraged Mr. Cho's parents to provide counseling. The family arranged for him to see a "dedicated therapist who cared about him deeply and worked with him one-on-one at a culturally sensitive location," says Ms. Stambaugh.
The school also offered him 50 minutes of speech and language therapy a month on site. When one of his private therapists asked why Mr. Cho wasn't given more time, says a person familiar with the matter, school officials responded that they didn't want to interrupt his academics by pulling him out of class more often.
"Fifty minutes a month of speech therapy isn't enough for somebody who isn't speaking and has the ability to," says Lindy Crawford, chairwoman of special education at the University of Colorado at Colorado Springs.
School officials also urged Mr. Cho to participate in clubs related to his academic strengths, Ms. Stambaugh says. He joined the science club, but rarely spoke there, according to other members of the club.
Following his education plan, teachers were encouraged to meet with him one-on-one and didn't require him to engage in group or class discussions. Prof. Crawford says such accommodations should be a "last resort. If the immediate solution was to require less of him, that's not how we train teachers here."
Theresa Fayne, who sat next to Mr. Cho in world history, says he attempted to participate in a group presentation about the Vietnam War. "You could see his mouth moving, but not a single word was coming out," she says.
Ms. Fayne says she tried to be friendly. "There was no point in ignoring him," she says. "You don't want to answer, that's fine." But she stopped, she says, when her teacher told her not to bother him.
Although colleges can't ask school guidance counselors directly about students' mental health, they can ask them to assess how an applicant relates to teachers and peers, says Gary Pavela, a teacher at the University of Maryland who is also a legal consultant to colleges. If the counselor answers candidly, the school might be alerted to potential psychological issues.
Mr. Pavela also says colleges increasingly ask essay questions on applications to try to shed light on a candidate's "emotional intelligence." The Massachusetts Institute of Technology tells applicants it wants to know how they "bring balance" to their lives and asks them to "tell us about something you do simply for the pleasure of it."
On Virginia Tech's application, essays are optional. Once enrolled on the Blacksburg campus in 2003, Mr. Cho didn't seek accommodations. "The accommodations that are made possible through the cooperation of the school system can't be continued beyond high school without the student's request," Ms. Stambaugh says. "You do get the sense that they're carried along to a certain point, and then they fall off the cliff."
Write to Daniel Golden at dan.golden@wsj.com
But, how do you mandate and implement psychological help for a few?
It goes against our national philosophy ...
And to be cynical it is EXPENSIVE. The rewards reaped would be long-term, not immediate ... is it fair to point a finger at the school?
I think our entire society is intrinisically responsible for this, but can offer no suggestions for repair!
I heard an "expert" talk about this after it happened. She said that it's not necessarily the loners who are at risk for this behavior but it's the failed joiners, people who really want to be a part of a group but just cannot connect.YES Turtle Iagree -- it is not jsut ASD kids who need social skills taught, formally!!!
I was excited to see, in Tuhina's printed daily schedule 20 min per day is devoted in HER REGULAR CLASSROOM to Character Development! In a PUBLIC SCHOOL! So this district is at least TRYING.
I hope this helps us see a blind spot in the academic system that is really difficult to address in school. Really school systems are not eager to take on the responsibility for children's psychological well-being as well as educate them. Trying to educate every child is though enough for them.
I know this my neighbourhood school that prides itself on it's national merit ranking would just use it as a criteria to reject some more kids. As it is, autistic kids are not welcome there, so are some others. When parents move to a "good school district" to get their children the best education, they are not going to own up to a weakness that is not obvious, if it could prevent their child from getting in the good school.
Concernedpa.
"Details of Mr. Cho's experience in special education, which are only
It is an interesting article. A lot of areas to be looked into, but at the same time, the schools did do somethings to help. It would be comforting to be able to put blame on someone or something when these terrible things happen. But at the same time it's not going to stop the problem.
I would love to be able to make the schools put more emphasis on these kinds of things, especially since this type of incident seems to be growing more and more. But at the same time we can't expect schools to do everything. (with all the fighting I did with Mason's school last year, I never thought I would be defending them.)
I do wonder though, with all the red flags the school was picking up on, how much did they push to express their concerns to the parents. I know it says they encouraged therapy, and the family said it was happening...but was there much follow through? What kinds of encouragement was happening...did they emphasize how serious of a problem they thought it might be? Did the school even know how serious it might have been?
I know there are probably laws preventing teachers or school staff from pushing these kinds of things, but maybe we should look into those laws more...but then it turns into the battle of family privacy etc. Catch 22--schools have regulations, families have privacy rights.
Anyway, it is an interesting article, thanks for sharing.
Yeah, the problem with withdrawn kids is, they have not offended anyone ... so can the school REQUIRE a troubled child to undergo therapy or medication of any sort? No.
It is challenging to teach even social skills -- let alone ethical or philosophical socialization -- without violating someone's rights to faith or belief.
So I can see how some people hearken back to the 50's when the US was more uniform of a society, and say things were better ... but I do not think so.
There has got to be a way.
I agree Linda...there has got to be a way!!
Maybe this article is the start of figuring this out. I'm sure it will take a long time, but there has to be something that can be done.
I try to be open and look at it from a different side...if the school came to me and said they thought there was a problem, say psychologically, would I be offended or would I be worried and follow through...would I tell them to mind there own business and focus on his education? I honestly don't think I can answer those questions.
Thought-provoking. Thanks for sharing the article.